Tag Archives: reality

July – Slope

<a href="http://intheblackbox.bandcamp.com/track/major-tom-and-envy" onclick="javascript:_gaq.push(['_trackEvent','outbound-article','http://intheblackbox.bandcamp.com']);">Major Tom and Envy by In The Black Box</a>
<a href="http://intheblackbox.bandcamp.com/track/four-beams-down" onclick="javascript:_gaq.push(['_trackEvent','outbound-article','http://intheblackbox.bandcamp.com']);">Four Beams Down by In The Black Box</a>

Battery
This growing, this turning heaving and recreating the reality, the slow pace, the growing boredom, the slow trickle of light through the folds in the curtain, knowing that two hours ago was a good time, two houors ago was far enough, and now the flow of light is a mocking flag, its a stamp on my territory. Im too late, the boat has set sail and i am left in this sea of light, struggling to stay in the dry, dry and peacefull.

My options are coated in sleep, to embrace to swim and dive for the other side… huge planks of light floating between the darkness, flipping endless in the space, the ever-embracing sweet space of night. I would dive to save the day, i would dive to deny the night, and with it destroy that time i want, when i dont have the weight. When i dont have the distraction. When it is just understanding.. because there is nobody to explain to. .. and i want it that way – and that is my second sleep coated option.

Quiet suburban solitude.. a forest of silent brickwork, hiding the vulnerable unaware. I sit on cold windows waiting for the next disruption, if it comes… wondering how we can sacrafice this? Its not about productivity in the wider sense, yet we struggle to bracket our days between the setting suns… ours and theirs. Don’t forget to slow down, there is no need to pull the handbreak and crash…

I am sitting on this cold ledge, slowing down, and letting my head talk to me. I am being led, I am going to follow and listen, I am going to note and investigate… I am going to find the most important things here, so that in the future… when the suns are ticking away my time.. i will remember… that it is not the end.. I just want to slow down and look into the black.

There was another time.. half out the window, in another place.. my mind considered the possibilities.. thinking of why i was there, why i was still awake… listening… wondering if that familiar dum hum of distant activity would ever be achieved in the heart of  the system… it was sad.. there was no escape… and there should always be an escape..

 

I have escaped tonight. Been waiting for that for awhile

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Black box Radio Show No.08

- click to listen here

We open up with Re: Stacks by Bon Ivor, it was while I was listening to this tune that I came up with the idea for this show. This album, one of those heart wrenching break-up albums that perhaps says way too much and leaves the listener helpless to understand all the emotions the singer is expressing, is full of noise, raw noise.. sounds of feet shuffling, heavy breathing, fingers moving across clean steel strings.. you not only hear the music, but you see the room in which it is being performed, you can see his hand moving on the guitar and the wires scraping around the floor. This perhaps is mostly due to the method of recording live through microphones, however there seems to be an effort to leave it in, as in this song the track is extended after a pause of silence so that you can hear him stand up and walk away from the microphone…

That silence is interrupted by the Latin grooves of Gotan Project. This tune to me brings up the idea that “place” is not exactly just the room in which it is recorded. Sometimes the group or performer wants to express an environment or culture. The noises here are not natural, but samples of horses galloping and the ambient sound of a busy hall or street coupled with the Latin vibe of the music places the listener in an environment… gives them a fictional image and lets them create it for themselves.

John Martyn’s “I’d Rather be the Devil” creates space through it’s genre and his revolutionary guitar effects and pedals… the extended delay effects on Martyn’s guitar and the experimental Jazz bass and bongos give a psychedelic space… perhaps water, perhaps its simply an emotion or colour… of course this all depends on the listener and their own perception of the music. However it is music that creates images, and for me those images are of a place…

These first three pieces consist mainly of traditional musical methods, live instruments and vocal, perhaps it is easier to create the illusion of space and environment when all the sounds are themselves created live, through instruments that are real… so when we consider more synthetic music…

L.C.D. Soundsystem’s “Beat Connection” isn’t exactly synthetic, if anything it represents an effort to create a more live sounding dance music. However the effort put into giving this life, live drums and vocal…and then gradually including synths and loops… one begins to try and pick out the little bits, the sounds, what is real and what isn’t… multiple spaces are created by the various recordings being layered atop one another. The distorted vocals once again bring a usually natural element – vocals- into a more synthetic world. Essentially the imaginary places that we create in John Martyn’s “I’d Rather Be The Devil” are now allowed to be distrted… the place where we saw the initial live drumming has been twisted and stretched by the synths and now the place in which the music exists is abstracted.

However an abstract image created by the music isn’t only achieved by synthesisers and effects pedals… personally I get the same effect in Ludvico Einaudi’s “Le Onde” …. Italian for “the Wave” this song for me creates a simple musical representation of the movement of water. I took this recording from “La Scala” a live performance where we get not only the music itself creating the effect but also the performers own interpretation of the music at that moment in time. What we each see when we hear this song is completely personal to every listener, however, like poetry there is a clear effort by the composer to create a place… and he wants us to see it.

It is a sudden jump to Lightnin’ Hopkins… yet this song and Son House’s “Death Letter” bring in another element of the place. The former is simply an example of how a genre of music itself represents a place. The blues, the singer, the guitar, the bass lines and drum… the sound of black America… once again it depends on the listener… but this music creates images… the latter, an older and more raw recording brings in an authentic cultural element. The raw recording allows us to imagine the strings being pushed around by Son House, a heavy thumb beating on the bass stings and the bottle neck slide scraping of the frets… this acoustic and more carefree style adds to the imagination, and just like in Bon Ivor’s song at the start of the show, we want to imagine the place in which it was recorded. Also the stories being told by these performers create a narrative which we naturally want to piece together and create a story.

This narrative is taken to extreme and comical lengths with Bod Dylan and the Band in “Clothes line Saga” the story isn’t hard to follow, a mockery perhaps of the slow pace of suburban small town American life. Yet the Basement Tapes where this song is from, plays on the listeners interest in the history of the recording itself. The Big Pink, the house in which the Band lived and recorded in the Woodstock area is the very famous place where this song and many more like it were recorded. The raw sound adds to the listener’s fascination into their life at the Big Pink… suddenly the place is becoming more important than the music it seems. However it is hard to argue with the quality of music that was produced within those walls… the Basement Tapes and the Band’s own “Music from the Big Pink” standing as the best thing to come out of the Woodstock era in my opinion.

The twang of Robbie Robertson’s guitar is not far from the untreated and pulsing sound of Explosions in the Sky… their gradual building sound… and explosions of noise and sound feed on the listener’s imagination… when this band performed the original soundtrack to the classic American Football movie “Friday Night Lights” the music came to represent intense battles in rain and dirt, the images of football fields and intense dark skies interrupted by blinding flood lights. The softer parts of the songs expressing the isolation and wilderness of the vast empty plains in America’s southern states.

Fela Kuti and Africa 70’s “Monday Morning in Lagos” is an example of how the individual and unique qualities of place specific music creates the origin of the style itself. The funky rhythmic afrobeat sound and constnt chanting, in a language most have no knowledge of  still manages to create an image of Africa that is unique from any other genre of music, even African genres… the language barrier if anything seems to enhance this quality and I feel this is followed up excellently in the final track in this weeks show.

Not many people have any idea what is being said in Sigur Ros’ ambient, beautiful music. Full of emotion and feeling, people are naturally entranced by their ability to mix pure sound to perfection and cook up the tastiest and most delicious musical dishes. However for me, their sound has an effect that is much like that of Fela Kuti, or Son House… it is a quality that I seem to draw from Bjork and Emiliana Torrini’s breath-taking vocal qualities… it is an Icelandic sound. And in Sigur-Ros’ case it is purely sound when you let yourself relax into the music… the sonic landscapes are both abstract and real… while the sound seems too good to be real we tap into the reality that nearly all of the sound is from live instruments and vocal. And I would hope that everyone sees a landscape…some mountainside somewhere in Iceland… wild and pure, with a wind blowing grass around.

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Where?

Ill tell you where…just not here, yet! Got you hard between the reciever and the truth and I am shining light into the black slips of money and sound.

 

Then there is none…you threw it away with the most important words and the longest silences…dead sound…send that email….take that chance…forget the consequences they say?

 

Another option we jest at corner stones and flags marked evil getting the picture are we? i hope true is that sound on you going and coming having no idea and trying all the same just let the rhythm take over and think not abou tthe options fopr the good and the ready have no forging to get done and realise what indeed you have written and why you are writing it for there is reason in all of this reason to believe and to greet the new and the old and the gooding and bading have we reached another level of this where and why and what who have they? i didnt know that i never know anything before it happens right in front of my face and even tho the funds are low and good vibrations will rattle of empty pockets where the rattling will definitely occur we will still groove with big smiles and seizing the night the skys willl fill once more with dark shining lights…and the box will be full to the brim and ready for action once more

 

yes they are coming…just not here yet

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20-365

Sometimes things die due to lack of energy… and so they must be replaced by old reliables, back to grainy goodness, back to alcohol drenched metalic might! Point your weathered eyed towards the horizon and seek land ye mighty phone!

The rediculous continues with challenges and questions on nothing in particular…its about can you do it? rather than why the fuck are we doing it in the first place?!?

And old men play old men on massive white sheets, jumping from top ropes to entertain the extras and the extra-extras : read all about it! Its worth a good read and definitely on the watch list for any into the physical scene.

And so there is nothing left to do in the night, no time left to enjoy the mornings, the quite, the teamwork and family feuds through thin walls which mask nothing but the visual – and even that is all in the head! Keep it quite ye young ones im trying to sleep in!

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19-365 (Multiple Vibration Reports)

The city swallowed me deep today – no energy, no life, my punishment for deep damaging grooves the night before – these forces will grow and this rigid structure will be destroyed. 

Head ached to the noises through my head and foreign tongues fell deaf on ears of disinterest…. yet there was light to behold when the snake spit me out once and for all.

Echoes from the night before ran through my eyes as my mind wondered towards forbidden noises.. yet keys were found the rewards were fantastic!

“The auld Triangle” – Bob Dylan and the Band

…before i knew it the vibrations of times past long forgotten within my local sphere were upon me… and i wondered how a voice so pure could fall on deaf ears for so long… hello Terry Reid.. welcome to my mind

Timetables may fall apart and pieces of sanity clear from all existance, yet in the wind are always echoes of reality and vibrations to keep you going.. one more breath one more step one more everything and before you know it its the next and the next…then its home time

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17-365

Roman walls were hard to topple but toppled they were.. great food from great people and happiness infected the environment. Shadows on well known streets reach out to hold me in but responsibilities are hard to resist and the foreign pulls me once again form the only thing i want.. last night is all to soon upon us.

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15-365 (Arrival)

This was perfection…that was perfection… lets try that again with a way longer outro and extra bass…

 

That was perfection

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10-356

And so the weekend of my year comes to a close.. months ago i gave up early starts for late finishes.. not like it ever mattered anyway, i never had to take up late finishes, they were just in the blood. What was mind destroying however was the mix. The evil mix of early and late, creation and destruction. I enjoyed both, needed both, but could not contain both in one day. My daily life was torn apart and my mind struggled to bridge the gap between the two…shall i consider an alternative… to turn early into late and wake when the sun leaves my world? Is that the answer.

 

If today of all days was anything to go by it really would not matter that much. This Sunday, the Sunday of my long weekend if you will, existed only within the walls of an apartment in Paris. For anybody except for the 5 other people who interacted with me today I barely need to have existed. You can check off the usual, the Internet, the music, the movies, the writing, the food, the water, the smells, the windows, the cold, the toilet, the thoughts, the phone calls, the texts, the news from home, the news from “the crumbling world”…… so much of the badness, the hopelessness of life is gone at night…minds are put to rest… people forget and exist solely within their minds. The only true privacy is behind those eyelids. And for all the economic downturns, the horrific weather, the fatal stabbings, the tragic car crashes… for all that sadness, reality is really just an echo within our minds… where we all truly exist, where we are all truly trying to find meaning and happiness. For it does not matter how the daily goings and comings of emotion and reaction effect us as a result of personal interaction…what matters is our own happiness…with ourselves… and for those brief moments between sunset and sunrise, everyone finds a place to be content. Everyone escapes the sadness… and the “realities” of life are no longer broadcast between mouths and ears, from screens and amplifiers… it simply stops…

 

So as i sit here… i realise there is only a silence, not of lonelyness but of relief… a contented silence… a moments peace, the world relaxes and enjoys its time in the shelter of its collective consciousness…

 

the first noises we hear in the morning are often the worst you will hear all day. A buzzing alarm clock or loud reminders of how we are late is no way to set yourself up for happiness..

 

i for one am happy with my space in time… i may be alone out here in reality… and the quiet streets echo the clicking of my keyboard.. i listen to the slow heart beat of relief and relaxation.

 

Space to think.

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Now Boy

I wrote this very silly line, between my thumb and forefinger, it didn’t make much sense to anyone but me and it revolved around the revelations of the world. I am going to let you in a little secret boy, now you listen to me. All these shadows that follow you through the caves.. all these empty bodies that cascade down upon you, they are all just white ghosts boy. White ghosts. Any time you wish to expel these daemons just wave your hand to where you see them and remember the reality, you hear me boy? Remember the reality?

Your imagination is your control boy, if you are out of control so is your imagination and when all else fails common sense will prevail boy, your just too young to realise that. .. and I’m sorry to say it but it will be many years before you realise reality.. boy.. let me tell you a story..

It’s about a stone, and this stone had a hard time getting pushed this way and that by the wind, the sea, the animals and the people. This stone had travelled farther than you could ever imagine boy… yes boy, waaaay past the shop on the corner!

One day this stone found itself below a great big boulder, and for a long time he did not move for the boulder protected the little stone without even realising. The stone was happy at last below this great shield, and set itself happily between the grass and the dirt for many many years. But this stone was silly for it presumed it had every right to its place in this safety and failed to ask the great boulder for permission to stay…

The little stone became more and more sure of himself, boasting to it’s forelorn and beaten friends the greatest of lives below this great boulder.

Then it started to rain… and the little stone got wet… and bit by bit, year by year.. the great boulder got smaller and smaller, the little stone was not happy, and began to remember the hard times, the punishing wind and rain, the endless seas… he could not let it happen again..

“Boulder! Oh big boulder! Why have you stopped protecting me!?” it shouted in protest with a tone so full of disbelief..

…the boulder stirred… the boulder growled as if woken from a great sleep… but didn’t say a word…

“Boulder! Oh big, brutish boulder! Look at me and explain yourself!” Screamed the little stone again…

… another growl that shook the little stone in its tiny spot.. and in a booming voice the boulder replied… “ Little stone! Silly little stone! I am no brute, neither am I a stupid little stone…Who gave you permission to reside below me… who are you to order me to speak!?”

And the little stone had realised it’s mistake, but only far too late, for now the boulder would not let him stay below its great shadow… The great boulder that had made the little stones life so incredible was no longer so great… it had gotten smaller and smaller… and now the little stone could not even creep below the shadow that was left below the boulder… all the dreams the boulder had given the stone were shrinking away and reality was dawning on it.

The wind…

The rain

The crashing waves

The cold nights

Cold

Alone

…and then the little stone asked the boulder why it had never noticed the little stone…and the boulder replied after a short pause…

“I was distracted by the world around me … there is a lot to see really… “

The little stone was confused, “but what about all that rain and snow, all that cold… do you not shelter? Hide away from the world?”

The boulder once again took awhile to answer…

“I was not like you little stone, I have not travelled to many places and seen many things,… I was once part of that great cliff in the distance and I too enjoyed the shelter I had… I too was afraid of the reality of the world… but in time my shelter disappeared and I fell to where I am now… I have been here a long time little stone… and seen many things… reality… I have seen reality little stone… and now you will too…

It may rain, it may snow and hail.. but for every drop of water there is also a ray of light, or a fresh breeze… for every winter there is a summer, for every fall, a spring. This is the way the world works… and now you will also realise that for every Ray of light there is also a dark shadow, for every clear day a cold night…

This is reality little stone… it will make you happy and sad…

…and the little stone let go of the earth below him….

And soon the wind blew…and the little stone moved on.

……..

Now Boy, where are your shadows? Maybe its time to leave them behind..

Visit www.intheblackbox.eu for the full experience.

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